


Avenged Train Tracks

by strifechaos



Category: S.W.A.T. (2003), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strifechaos/pseuds/strifechaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian Gamble was a former SWAT officer turned criminal, just as Director Fury wanted his undercover operative to appear.</p><p>A brief glimpse into the story of Clint Barton's undercover mission in the LAPD SWAT division, and the partner he was forced to leave behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/gifts).



> I tried really hard to get the IMF agents to do a zombie apocalypse but they just weren't having it. Maybe later. (Once I get a few of these infernal Hobbit bunnies pinned down.)
> 
> For now, the SWAT team wanted to be invaded by the Avengers.

From the start the mission hadn’t felt right. Clint’s instincts had pinged throughout the pre-brief from Coulson but it took more than a bad feeling to dissuade the Director of SHIELD from a mission. Active field agents weren’t assets that Fury sent out into the field for shits and giggles after all, so while an undercover op was never Clint’s first choice, it was the tactic most typically employed by SHIELD when extensive information collection was required. And when Clint considered with the number of enemies that SHIELD had accumulated over the years, it wasn't a huge leap that there weren’t many agencies that the Director hadn't planted a liaison of some sort into, the network of connections in place as an early warning system for threats against S.H.I.E.L.D. was overwhelming and decades in the making. So Clint didn’t have to like the idea of being a part of the LAPD SWAT division in order to be assigned to do so. Looking back he wishes he hadn't followed the parameters of the mission so well, things might have turned out better.

  
Outside of his undercover SWAT op, Clint was a key member of the Avenger’s Initiative. Until the Avengers became an active team though Clint only had a few milk runs every few months to run down information from various SHIELD sources. Since being assigned the Brian Gamble cover, the most action Clint had seen was the close call with Thor down in New Mexico; and even then Agent Coulson hadn’t given him the go ahead to shoot. It had been a rather slow six years of maintaining his LAPD cover.

The distraction of becoming Brian Gamble, a cocky cop in LA's SWAT division did have a few perks. LAPD's training for their elite division wasn't anything to sneeze at for a typical civilian, the torture that SHEILD required its agents to undergo meant that Clint had to work harder at pretending their training program wasn't more of a warm up than the endurance draining boot camp from hell it was meant to act as for cops. Especially because SHEILD policy required that active field agents maintain their level of fitness in occurdance with SHIELD standards of health and fitness. Still, it was easier for Clint to slip in some rigourous running and excersise under the Brian Gamble guise than Tasha had when she went under with Stark as an assistant. He couldn't imagine having to be stuck behind a desk all day in a legal department, because they needed an agent planted in STARK Industries. The idea of being forced into sedetary captivity makes Clint want to go for a job or swim by sheer second-hand claustrophobia. Tasha's first meeting with Stark and the boxing lesson would have been so much worse if Clint had been assigned the mission. Clint often had to remain still as a marksmen but it meant that anytime he wasn't on a mission he was practically bouncing off the walls, so the SWAT training was a small blessing even if it didn't require his full effort.

Which wasn’t to say that Clint didn’t get his ass handed to him by the social nuances of being a part of a team. Growing up in the circus hadn't exactly made Clint a becon of normality, though Coulson's slight reality tv addiction did have some benefits of rounding out Clint's cover. At first the cover meant he'd go out for drinks with the team to celebrate but from there it strayed into hanging out with Street and playing Madden into the wee hours of the night. Then there were retirement parties for guys in the department or even just one of the team inviting the rest over for a barbque because of their kid's birthday. The more time Clint spent as Brian the more the two blended into one another. There were still missions with SHIELD but they became the exception instead of the rule.

The hardest part wasn't getting along with the cops but started to be Clint having to reign himself in when the SWAT team was deployed on a mission. Just because Clint could do something, scale a wall with a trick from the circus or hit a target dead center from any distance, didn’t mean that Brian Gamble could display the same skill set. When a life was on the line it was hard to remember that Clint wasn't SWAT but SHIELD, that the mission parameters for seeking out threats to SHIELD had to come first. Clint hadn't become one of SHIELD's top operatives because he couldn't follow orders, or find ways around those orders if a situation forced his hand.

 

-0-

 

The mission might not have been baby sitting a billionaire genius but Clint still found himself getting frustrated all the same. With no tangaible goals, the mission left him with nothing to do but maintain his skills and fitness, preparing for a mission that still hadn't required anything from him in over half a decade. Clint figured Fury just didn't want to admit that there hadn't been a peep from any of their enemies. SHIELD typically deals with terrorist threats and barring those, threats from superhuman beigns like Thor or the Hulk. There had been some craziness in New York but the west coast had been relativetly quiet.

Any mention of these doubts about the area only resulted in Coulson giving him a standard reply that "the Director felt it best if he remained where he was currently, that all agents afield had been assigned their operations based on the best use of SHIELD’s assets and the maintenance of the agency’s status-quo".

If his handler was in a particularly good mood, Coulson would sometimes follow up his customary answer by pointing out that if he felt inadequate or unable to carry out his duties then he would of course be immediately removed from the field and given a cot in the Recovery ward on base until he felt recuperated and fit for duty. It was a threat that made Clint grin and ask Coulson if this was his way of admitting he missed having Clint around the office.

“Like an arrow to the ass, Barton.”

 

So despite the nonexistent thrum of terrorist activity that was on interest to SHIELD Clint remained deployed. Clint knew it could have been worse, hell his past missions had been worse – he’d been in Budapest, and things didn’t get much worse than that, despite what Natasha might say on the situation.

Once Brian Gamble had completed the mandatory tour of duty as a cop before he could be promoted to a Grade Three police office that was eligible for SWAT division selection, the work wasn't as mind numbing but closer to his typical challenges. Clint found his attention didn't waver so much throughout his shifts, though his Angry Bird scores did suffer horrendously, the only tradeoff was that he could now use more of his actual skillset without arousing the suspicions of his superiors.

The brotherhood that came from being part of such a tight knit group also gave the operation some appeal. Despite knowing that Brian Gamble was only a cover and not being a big people person, it was rough to be separated from the rest of the SHIELD flock. The agency didn’t coddle its agents, and although Clint got on well enough with Coulson, the guy wasn’t exactly warm fuzzies and friendship bracelets. Natasha made for a great, if terrifying partner; most importantly because she was competent and could keep up with Clint where not many of the other agents could. Still, with her skill set she was more often than not off on mission, racking up less time at SHIELD headquarters than Clint did. Not the most outgoing person, read: trust issues, Clint did enjoy being around the guys on his SWAT team. The isolation from SHIELD meant that he'd  unintentionally put more of Clint Barton into his partnership with Jim than Coulson or Fury would be happy about.

 

-0-

 

Bonding with his SWAT team hadn’t come naturally. Even back in his time at the circus Clint could never been said to have been overly trustful. He’d thought Barney had had his back then and considering the epic failure that turned out to be he considered it was better to not trust but to verify.

Still, after going through training together the men that made up Brian’s SWAT team were open, even encouraging of getting together outside of work. It was quite the novelty to Clint. The idea of drinks to celebrate missions was a common occurrence, especially between Jim and Brian. When the team wasn’t feeling up for a bar crawl, more often than not Jim's or Clint’s couch was used for XBOX tournaments.

It shouldn't have surprised him, but over the years Clint grew closer to Jim Street. When off the clock they often went to sports games, played games of pickup basketball or even whiled away the early hours of the morning surfing. Jim had even taught Clint how to surf. After six years of being partners they'd reached the point where around the station any boot knew that Fuller was an unbridled asshole, Boxer would always and forever be an overprotective big brother to his badge bunny sister, and that Brian and Jim were inseparable.

Clint was often tempted to introduce Natasha to Jimmy, only knowing that the Black Widow would disapprove of their friendship (they had their own handshake!) kept him from merging his two worlds. SHIELD agents operated in a moral world of grey but Natasha wouldn't see Clint's friendship as an allowable risk and Clint knew himself well enough that if it weren't for Jim he wouldn't be able to handle the boring tedium of his undercover op. His partner allowed him to function in the otherwise monotomous LAPD, because compared to the normal brand of insanity Hawkeye faced, even the freakshow that was LA wasn't much of a surprise. Mostly, it felt right to trust Jim, not the same way it did with Natasha or Phil or even Fury, because deep in his bones and guts and cells he knew that Jim wouldn’t try to pull one over on him. Ever. Clint didn't think about how Jim trusted Brian not _Clint_.

 

-0-

 

At first, Clint hadn’t understood why he’d gotten along so well with Jim. He'd never trusted easily, not since Barney but he couldn't ignore the way that their partnership instinctively formed. Clint had never been part of such an instantaous bond before, the closest would be his occasionally partnership with Natasha but there was something different about Jim. They weren't polar opposites but Brian Gamble and Jim Street tempered one anothers rough edges and their working relationship got the results the higher ups were looking for but often couldn't get. 

Street didn't go out of his way to be the center of attention but Clint had never seen him faltered when put on the spot, a quick glib remark always ready on the tip of his tongue. It had led to more than a few spats between Street and McCabe, especially if Boxer wasn't around to reign in his own partner because the smartass, 11-year old in Clint tended to revel in the fiery exchanges between the two. As Hawkeye he was well known for abusing the com systems during missions, but Gamble was a hot tempered gas spill spoiling for a spark. Jim’s strong arms and quelling words were often the only things that kept Brian back from getting reprimands in his file or booted out of SWAT. He didn't have the iron control to hold back from charging at a red flag, not like Jim. Jim was quick with words but slow to exploding, he handled the teasing and taunts from the other guys in the division with a defter hand than Gamble managed. It’s one the reasons the captain had them paired up.

On his more whimsical days or during his drunker nights Clint’s brain is convinced that they’re kindred spirits, both lost and searching for a place to belong.  
Jim, for all that he’s seen and done in his military career, is always quick to laughter and pranks. Jim wasn’t innocent; he’d been a goddamn Navy Seal for christsakes, but he’s got the best fucking straight man’s face that Clint’s seen outside of Coulson. He’d seen and done shit that was so fucked up that he wouldn’t even hint at what it was, the man had blood on his hands, maybe not as much as Clint or Natasha, but enough that he couldn’t be clearly defined as an innocent, but he was always up for a prank war against the other teams or teasing the shitheads at the bars.

 

-0-

 

Clint figured the way he was drawn to Jim was a side effect of being surrounded by people that were only masks and secrets for so long, the longer he was around Street the more he noticed how it wasn’t just him that would get drawn in by those snarky one-liners or ‘Aw-shucks’ puppy dog eyes, people in general were drawn to Jimmy. Jim had a quiet charisma that made people want to be around him; turned hardened and gruff officers into pussycats and opened up normally closed off women like he had a key to their panties. It probably didn’t hurt that the guy had a face that could make a nun question her vows, let alone of lonely SHIELD agent of ambiguous sexuality.

Despite how easy going the other man was, Clint could see how Street yearned for the connection that he’d had with his Seal team. The ingrained need for companionship was what drove him so hard to be in SWAT, it was the closest he’d ever imagined he’d regain what he used to have in the military. The bond was addicting, for all that it kept them from making relationships outside of the team work. Unless someone was a part of the life, they didn't understand the comradeship that came part and parcel with putting their life in the hands of their teammates and trusting that they’d take care of it. Clint thinks that’s the reason they got on so well, he’s been looking for the same thing and only managed to find that rare trust a few times in his life.

It was a heady cocktail for Clint, going out on the rare fact finding mission as part of the Avenger Initiative and being put through his paces with the high octane operations that popped up for SWAT, mostly having a partner he could trust.  
So of course just as he’s finally settled into the life Fury decides to add one more fucking twist.

 

-0-

 

Orders came in that Brian Gamble needed to be booted out of the LAPD. Coulson refused to fall victim to any wheedling from Clint about why this was happening now or what it was that he should be expecting. All that his handler would spill was that a French operative made mention of some Hydra ally from a drug empire was having some internal family and financial issues that would soon turn deadly and likely boil over into the American counterparts of the operation, and that Clint would need to be in position to ‘help’ in order to gain information for the agency.

Before Clint has time to mourn Brian Gamble, the bank job was dropped in SWAT’s lap five days later, and Clint puts Fury’s latest orders into action. Brian shoots a hostage, it would have been a risky move if Brian didn’t have Hawkeye’s ability to hit a target dead on but unfortunately Jim only sees his partner disregard the order to halt and blatantly fire upon a criminal using an innocent woman as a shield. It’s enough to get Gamble booted out of SWAT but the trick was to make sure that Jimmy wouldn’t follow him.  
Fuller took two months to pick apart their decision to break protocol, because Jim wouldn’t admit that it had been Brian’s idea and he’d only done what a true partner would and backed him up. It had rankled that Clint’s operation as an undercover agent depended on Jim not having the slightest hint that Brian didn’t exist, and his fall from the LAPD didn’t actually matter. Clint played up his anger and rage at being put in the corner by Fuller, the captain really didn’t understand how it worked out in the field if he’d so careless bench two of the department’s best agents just to save some face with the chief, but by focusing the asshole’s ire on him it meant Jimbo’s demotion was lessened so that there was a the hope that his partner could one day get back into a SWAT team as soon as Fuller unfucked himself long enough to realize that Street was one of his best officers he had in the department.

Cutting Jimmy out and putting the blame for the bank mission fallout on him was like swallowing glass but the people that Clint was going to have to associate it with eat Street alive. Clint would remember to his dying day sitting on the bench in the locker room because he couldn’t force himself to move yet. He’d been psyching himself up so that he could to force his partner to stay behind, because Clint knew that Jim loved being part of SWAT. It was the closest he’d ever get to being a SEAL again, and Clint had to make Brian into someone that Jim couldn’t follow. His partner could forgive a lot, especially of Brian, but he always needed Brian to be contrite when he fucked up, to own up to his own failures.

The front of shooting a hostage and then refusing to take any blame had kept the usually easy going officer taciturn and brooding for months. Clint knew it was just his first step in breaking up their partnership, just the beginning. Even as Clint had slammed Jim against the mirror he knew, deep in his gut that he’d have to fight harder than he’d done so far in his life to keep Jim safe. To make sure he stayed safe. That he would let Brian Gamble crash and burn.

Jim didn’t leave people behind, all that fucking SEAL training making him so goddamn noble. Clint was certain there wasn’t a chance in hell that Street would let Brian slip away unless Clint played it just right, but Fury hadn’t put him undercover for half a decade for him to let personal feelings get in the matter.

Logically ripping apart his friendship with Jim wasn’t the hardest thing that he’d even had to do, all it took was applying the rights words and psychology to the weak spots that he’d so closely guarded for the past five years and savaging them. Slamming harsh judgments into Jim and spewing out a denial that they’d ever shared a true partnership, it was like sitting back and becoming his worst self. For one of the first times in his life it felt like he’d become Barney but seeing the rage and hate and defeat fester in Jim’s eyes meant that he’d stay safe. He wouldn’t follow.

Once Clint finished the mission he’d explain. Jim would still listen, he’d have to, Clint would make him because the concept of living with a Jim disappointed and untrusting of Clint tore fiercely at him, hurt in a way he wasn’t used to anymore, didn’t think he could hurt that way anymore. That was all that mattered at this point. Once the mission was done he could explain, he wouldn’t even have to playact at being contrite this time for Jimmy, and then he wouldn’t feel like he’d run over his fucking dog and shot his best friend in the face for no reason.

After the mission.

 

-0-

 

The next six months he started the slow transformation into someone that would be approachable to a HYRDA agent or a member of the Ten Rings, or one of SHIELD’s many other enemies. Instead of going out drinking with the team or spending a weekend at the beach with Jim, he made connections with the underground black market or played cards with drug dealers. It was slow but the alcohol made it a little easier. When he felt lonely he could always hit up his old bars, more often than not Jim would be at the bar nursing a beer. Clint could watch as Brian flirted with whatever bar floozy was with the gang that night, sling a few slurs Jim’s way and watch as the hatred and separation between them grew, knowing that the slow rot of their relationship guaranteed Street’s safety.

 

-0-

 

Phil hadn’t let a peep slip about Fury going undercover, only Brian Gamble’s contacts with the SWAT division had made mention of the return of the legendary ‘Hondo’ and his attempts at putting together a new SWAT team. Clint had been furious; at first it appeared that there wasn’t a good reason for Brian to be booted from SWAT if Fury felt the need to step into the organization in his place.

Clint had put his partner through hell because Fury had grown suspicious of his attachment to Street. The only boon he got out of the situation was the knowledge that Jim would get a second chance at SWAT, and that Fury would watch out for him. The downside of his exit were the rumors he’d spread of Jim narking on him to Fuller. The cruel isolation and taunting comments from the cops in the division hadn’t been easy for Street. Already demoted from the team, suffering the emotional rollercoaster losing a partner the guy wasn’t having the best year.

When he’d first broke away from his partner he’d expected him to bounce back. Jim wasn’t naturally dark, for a SEAL he was downright lighthearted, and Clint wasn’t sure what it meant that instead of finding a replacement Brian, all Jim did was breakup with Boxer’s sister and literally run himself to the point of sickness. The dog was new though. It was the only thing that stopped Clint from breaking orders and storming up to Street’s shitty little apartment and spilling the whole thing. Jim hadn’t willing let Brian go, he didn’t abandon people, and he sure as hell wouldn’t do anything stupid to himself if he had to look over someone, even if it was just a dog.

 

-0-

 

“Word is that the Montel clan is a big supporter of HYRDA, they’re in to all that superiority nonsense and willing to cover the bill.”  
Clint scowled. He twisted the silver stud in his left ear, and leaned further back in his chair until it was supported only on two legs. Coulson glanced up from the notes he’d been making from Clint’s report, to follow his agent’s actions but made no comment. He’d handled Barton long enough to pick up the telltale signs of impatience and annoyance in the younger man.

“We’re close, Clint. Real close.”

Clint threw the chair down onto all four legs with a frown, slamming his hands flat on the conference table. “We’ve been close before, Coulson. How much longer before we finish this op?”

Phil raised an eyebrow, he silently closed the report folder and steepled his fingers together on top, it was a pose meant to make him appear unthreatening, like a bank manager or accountant but Clint wasn’t fooled, he knew firsthand just how dangerous Coulson could be if the situation required it.

“I hadn’t realized that you were only able to complete short term missions, Agent Barton. If you feel at this time that you are no longer capable of finishing the task, then we will of course make alternative arrangements.”

Clint’s lips flattened into a colorless line, he knew he was being baited but he’d never been able to learn to shut up. It’s one of the characteristics that sold his performance in Fuller’s office all those months ago after all.

“This is becoming less of a mission and more of a clusterfuck every day, Coulson, and you know it.”

His handler didn’t disagree or flinch at the curse; instead Phil tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement of the remark.

“Regardless, the mission isn’t complete yet, are you able to finish?”

Clint stood up, pushing back from the table and scraping the chair loudly against the floor. He wetted his lips, eyes focused on the ground before he looked up to meet Coulson’s gaze.

“Yeah, I’ll finish it.”

 

-0-

 

The days leading up to the escape with Montel had put Clint in the best mood since before the shoot out at the bank. It’s the first chance he’s had in what feels like years to put together a team and achieve a tangible goal, he can use the skills and talents that he’s had to disguise as good luck or ignore as a SWAT officer. Like a bird flexing its wings after confinement, Clint soars when it comes to the complexities of an escape plan that won’t be hindered by the SWAT team but will also guarantee that SHIELD can get the information Clint had been sent in for originally. Natasha had made pointed comments that perhaps he was happier because it meant the end of Brian Gamble, shrugging off the skin of a man he wasn’t and reclaiming his old life.

Clint hadn’t thought what would happen to his cover once the mission was completed. He’d been primarily focused on making connections that would allow him to get to Montel, get the intel that SHIELD was so desperate for and then making Jim see that Clint hadn’t abandoned him. It had been a cold realization that Clint had summarily refused to acknowledge, that to Jim Street, Clint Barton was a complete stranger. The timeline of the operation didn’t give him time to dwell though, it was too late to back out and in a few short days he’d do what it took to fix his partnership.

 

-0-

 

Montel’s promise of fortune in exchange for his freedom couldn’t have been more advantageous for Clint’s plan than if Fury had scripted it himself. It did carry the downside of more civilian involvement than SHIELD preferred but at this point their preferences were immaterial. The job was going down. The transfer of the criminal to federal custody would be the weakest point of his captivity and exactly where Clint planned to attack.

The day of the drug load’s transfer Clint could hardly contain his anticipation; his mission was clicking right along like clockwork instead of the years of stagnant bench warming he’d been forced through.

The real trick was to make is so that Jimmy and the rest of his SWAT team could tag along with Jim still coming out relatively unscathed. The increased public involvement with Montel meant that some causality would be unavoidable but Clint worked to keep it to a minimum. Still, with Jim’s background in the Navy, it wasn’t too difficult for Clint to set up an escape plan that Montel would fall for but that wouldn’t be beyond Street’s skill to diffuse.

Street’s new team might have respected his privacy in regards to what he did as part of the SEALs but SHIELD had so such compunctions, so setting up a trap that would hold Jim long enough for Clint to get the information out of Montel was more like a brain teaser than a complete impossibility. The claymore hadn’t been an easy find, and if Coulson’s expression had been anything to go by, than Clint’s personal attachment to his former partner hadn’t escaped the handler’s notice. When the requisition forms for the bombs still passed with approval Clint couldn’t help but feel like he had finally regained somewhat of an ally in repairing his relationship with Jimmy.

 

-0-

 

He’d finally done it, mission accomplished, Montel, the smug fucker, thinking he was moments away from being in the air had given up his bank account information. The same information that SHIELD had been after for almost six years, and the best part was that the little prick had been so sure of his freedom that he hadn’t thought of a backup plan for when they never took off from the bridge.

Clint had the information, there was no reason for him to let any of these scumbags escape. He’d tried to protect McCabe as best he could, now all that had to happen was for everyone to get ‘overwhelmed’ by the rookie SWAT team and then they’d crow as they happily took them into custody. Fury would bust him out and he could return to SHIELD headquarters where the techs would be able to backtrack the channels that Montel’s dirty money had taken as it had funded the terror cells that Hydra ran, and eventually locate their current base of operations. Within hours if not days they’d have a new target, a new mission, and Barton couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have at his side than his old partner.

Brian Gamble only had hours left to live before he just became another discarded alias, from there Clint could start figuring out how to unfuck his life. Fury finally had his lead and Clint would finally get his best friend back.

So of course Jimbo had to follow him off the bridge, like the unrelenting dickhead he was, couldn’t leave an opportunity to throw a monkey wrench in Clint’s victory. Brian wouldn’t of thought to make a contingencies for this but Clint had, even if stabbing Jim onto a train hadn’t been the most elegant of solutions. He should have known better, Jim was a dog with a bone when it came to getting the mission done same as Clint. If Street was willing to track him through the subways, sewers and down a bridge it only makes sense that a series of train tracks wouldn’t stop him either.

A loose end to the mission, Clint swears under his breath as he jogs away from Jim. He should have just knocked the other man out, laid him down on the train bed and let him wake up in a few hours. The plan was starting to become a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Agents weren’t supposed to get emotionally involved with the people they worked around, Nat had tried to warn him but he’d been too bullheaded and lovesick to pay attention. Now he had to dig himself out of this hole before things got any more messed up.  
His attachment to Jim had made things unclear, difficult to follow the standard mission parameters. Clint would take to the grave the number of times he’d been seconds away from telling Jim about Clint Barton. Too many times to count and after the first time he should have told Coulson, should have removed himself from the mission but from the moment that he’d meet the smiling former Seal he hadn’t been able to turn away when he should have.

He couldn’t salvage the situation tonight, not with Jim so crazed and furious at his attack on Boxer that he’s throwing barrels at him like Donkey Kong. The trick with the train wheel was going to be a bitch but Clint can’t imagine a future where Jim isn’t his partner.

It’s only a deep breath and then he’s falling back against the train, jerking as it rushes by him and then playing possum. Street’s stuttering breaths are the only thing he can hear outside of his thundering pulse, they are ragged, wet intakes of breath that come from the punched nose and the rollercoaster of the night finally catching up with Street.  
It’s a good forty minutes before Street pulls it together enough to leave Brian, the raspy crying jag and the barely held in panic attack make them the longest forty minutes of Clint’s life.

 

-0-

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the shifts in tenses.

Jim has had a rough year. Trying to keep a level head in the field had never been a challenge until Brian Gamble had come into his life. After losing the tight brotherhood that came with serving in the Navy, Jim had been searching for a replacement for that need to belong, a fix for the knowledge that no matter what his partner would have his back. It’s not SWAT that he finds anything close to what’s been dogging at his heels for so long. It’s a place to belong but it didn’t come free. The work and time that Jim put in to being eligible, let alone selected, ate up his entire life and every second had been worth it.

The first time he met the other officers selected for his SWAT team; they’re all sitting around the conference tables waiting for their lieutenant to arrive. Gamble made a snide remark about Jim looking more like a badge bunny than SWAT material and Jim had sniped back that he needed to keep his wishful thoughts to himself. They’d been partners ever since.

And five years later he’s in the gun cage, cleaning boots and fixing guns because he’d lost his partner and his job in one fell swoop.

When Brian broke the hold at the bank Jim knew he couldn’t leave the other man alone, it’s only after Bri shoots the last criminal through the hostage that Jim realizes he should have pulled him back, should have stopped his partner before he’d bulldozed ahead. Fuller roasts them over the pit for two months about their mistakes, especially after the chief gets wind of the hostage suing the city for millions. Considering their fellow officers have been pointing out that they did the right thing, it’s a bitch slap across the face when Fuller threatens to kick them out of the police department altogether. The bastard had taken his time in finding every single misstep they’d made during the mission without taking into account the slip second they often had to make these decisions, all that bullshit about the right thing to do not being the right thing to do.

Then the captain only offers up a shitty olive branch in the form of the gun cage, Street isn’t sure what it is about him and Gamble that pisses the asshole off so much but even the Lieutenant was angry at losing two of his best men, and all because the Chief is upset with Fuller.

With only the pretence of getting back on SWAT, and a more likely fate of being stuck in the gun cage for the rest of their careers, Brian, not unexpectedly, exploded and refused bow down to Fuller’s ego. Jim’s had to kiss enough asses and act remorseful for enough of the stunts that Gamble’s pulled over the past five years that although a painful shot to his dignity, he’s willing to take his punishment, for his partner.

Brian wasn’t so willing. Just as quick as the offer was made, Brian furiously refuses and throws in the towel instead. It’s a gut punch that Gamble so swiftly gave up on their partnership because his pride won’t take being stuck in the cage for a few months. That Brian can just throw away all the training and effort it took to earn spots on SWAT at the drop of a hat is what Jim points out in the locker room but mostly because his mind is still stuck on the fact that Gamble didn’t even consider Jim before trashing their partnership.

The man that was closer than a brother to him, questioning his loyalty, doubting that he’d follow Brian to hell and back if he’d only asked. But he never did, and instead Brian pushes him away for a decision that he never made, accuses him of being like Fuller because he couldn’t wrap his mind around abandoning his dreams as quickly as Brian. Giving up the only family he has because of Fuller and Brian’s hot tempers and stubborn prides.

Street hadn’t even felt the glass from the mirror cutting into his scalp, all he could focus on was the fact that Fuller had offered him the chance to turn on Gamble, had given him the opportunity to be back on SWAT tomorrow, and he’d turned it down out of loyalty. The same loyalty that Brian accused him of not having, it made Street sick that he didn’t just hop ship but for all the good it did him he might as well have. What good was a partner that didn’t have your back when he needed you? And Jim had never seen Brian need him as much as he did in that locker room, only his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth, his gut had twisted up and he couldn’t imagine a world where he wasn’t a part of a team again.

His mind had blanked and before he could get his mouth to work again Brian had taken his silence as rejection and abandonment, and reacted in the worst possible manner, leaving no hope for Jim that he can keep his brother in arms and his job. Jim tries to ignore that even after all of Brian’s selfish bullshit he still couldn’t find it in him to return to Fuller’s office and offer up his former partner on a silver platter.

-0-

Not willing to give in to Fuller’s demand that he turn on Brian, Jim takes his lumps in the gun cage. Six months dredge by and Jim isn’t surprised when Boxer comes to help move his sister out. Her parting comment about them not being together for marriage is a slap in the face but Jim can’t say she was wrong. Letting her walk out of the apartment was one of the easiest decisions he’d ever made, and that right there was enough for him to know that they weren’t meant to be anything to one another but a way to pass the time.

It’s still another person who can’t stand to stay with him.

Drinking only sooths the pain temporarily, when he comes back to his too small apartment smelling like the bar it’s a stark reminder that he’s alone. It’s even worse when he runs into Gamble. The shock he’d felt when he ran into Brian and his ex-partner had silver studs in his ears and new ink scrolled across his arms had been the last wake up call. He’d held out hope that Brian would figure out what he wanted in life, since it wasn’t SWAT and it wasn’t Jim, and they could salvage a friendship out of the train wreck their lives had become.

Instead, Brian flirts with drunken women at bars that hadn’t been worth a first, let alone second, glance. He exchanges handshakes and bro hugs with guys that are scum, petty criminals playing at being thugs. But for all the contempt that Jim feels for the life that his best friend had carved out for himself, it’s more than Jim’s done lately.

All he has is training and work. He runs until his legs cramp and his lungs burn, he doesn’t stop until he’s puking up the protein shake he’d chugged for breakfast, and then he just runs faster. The only companionship Jim keeps is his dog, and Jasper is more of a deterrent for other joggers from starting up any conversation. The big German Shepherd was a retired drug dog from the narcotics department, and is more than willing to share his growly bark and show off his teeth to the potheads that roamed the beaches, as well as keep chatty interruptions from stopping Street’s physical implosion.

 

-0-

 

Life would have gone on indefinitely if Hondo hadn’t shown up and forced Street to stand up for a spot on the team. His poking and prodding behavior remind Street of his former partner, and he enjoys it more than he’d like to admit. Makes him feel like his life is finally getting back on track.

Training was worse than he’d remembered, although that could have been because of all the rookie mistakes that the newbies kept making. He tried not to think that it was because Brian wasn’t there, if only because he’d grown used to how the other man would move, the confidence that Bri would have his back no matter what. McCabe and Boxer he’s worked with before, even if it was never extensively, they know how to operate but Deke and Sanchez have never worked SWAT before and it only compounds how much they all don’t gel yet.

Eventually they start to pick up a rhythm and figure out how to work as a team, and it’s strange at first, having to trust Hondo, McCabe, Deke, Sanchez and Boxer to have his six. They aren’t Gamble, who might not have had Jim’s back for over half a year but five years worth of instincts still insist that unless Brian’s at his back the person can’t be trust. There’s a forced reliance on one another from training but it’s only a fledgling in comparison to what he’d shared with his old teammates.

Brian had mentioned once that the team was closer than family, which Jim hadn’t known how to take since Brian never talked about where he came from, period. Jim could even recall a few scuffles he’d gotten into with McCabe when the latter had implied Bri was an orphan, but Street can’t recall the other man ever mentioning where he used to live before LA. The only time he’d pressed his partner had pointed out that the only family that mattered was the team.

Jim doesn’t like the idea that these people that Hondo have selected will one day replace the relationship he’d fostered with Gamble. They haven’t spoken in a few weeks, not since they’d run into one another at a bar and Brian had taunted Jim about the gun cage and being Fuller’s bitch, but he still feels closer to this asshole version of his best friend than he does any of Hondo’s mutts.

 

-0-

 

Slowly they start to come together, to the point that Jim is more excited than worried about the big test they have before they’re officially a SWAT team. It’s nothing like what he’d had before with Brian but Jim won’t let his pride get in the way of a possible new future. The furious contempt that Brian shoots at Sanchez at the bar, his stupid little barbs, are the first glimpses that Jim’s seen that Brian still gives a shit what happens to him. When he saw the half smile on Brian’s mug when Jim scores a hit on his friend about being his bitch it’s the happiest he’d felt in a long time.

 

-0-

 

If Jim had known it would be the last time he saw his best friend before he was held at gunpoint by him, he might have done things differently. Might have reached out then to get Gamble to understand that he had a new SWAT team but he’d never have another partner. Jim isn’t sure it would even matter to Brian anymore though, not with the path he’d taken once he’d quit the LAPD.

Not many of the SWAT guys are civil but from the few friends that Brian’s kept in the division had shared rumors about what Brian’s been getting into since he left. None of them have been pretty.

Jim still feels like he’s been gut shot when he McCabe pulls his gun on them and Brian pops up to help Montel escape. The mere idea that Brian has devolved to the point where he’s become one of the people they used to take down doesn’t register, all he knows is that he has to stop him, has to catch up with him and make him take it back. To change back into the guy that was his best friend for more than half a decade, that was closer than a brother to him, someone he’d tried so hard to impress and keep interested in him.

Jim wasn’t stupid but he knew he wasn’t half as clever as Gamble that he could shoot but that Brian had moves that were only ever hinted at when he did the impossible during a mission and saved the day. He was rowdy and cocky and one of the most talented men had ever served with, and to this day he isn’t sure why Gamble had agreed to partner with him but it wasn’t until he’d been handcuffed to a steering wheel that he could ever say he’d regretted it.

The other half of the team came to rescue them, and then Jim was back on Brian’s trail. The fiery rage forcing him onwards is partially from Brian shooting Boxer; the desolation that Brian could so gleefully kill one of their own and then take off down the subway like it was no big deal seems even more out of character than helping a drug lord escape.

As soon as he’s unlocked Jim explodes onto Brian’s trail, so close but not fast enough, always a step behind. Even when they catch the trail to the sewers, Jim knew they were too late. It’s only as he’s repelling down the side of a bridge and chasing Gamble into the train tracks that he unleashes the rage that’s been simmering for so long.

The abandonment from his partner, that Brian would shoot Boxer for no reason, that McCabe was turned against his teammates for money, that people were dying because a scumbag drug dealer had offered a big money reward to escape custody – he takes all of it and goes after Gamble. He goes after Brian with everything he’s got, all he sees is red and then it’s done.

Gamble shudders from the contact with the train and Jim’s brain switches off. He can’t even go over and check on Brian. His mind just goes blank, he’s not sure how long he’s on the ground for but it’s not until he’s back up with Hondo and Deke that he even realizes he’d moved from Gamble. If put on the spot to testify how he’d returned to the bridge he wouldn’t be able to explain it. He’s numb.

Street moves on autopilot when Fuller starts flapping his gums about the prisoner still not being in federal custody, the remaining SWAT team members load him into the nearest transport and head off into the desert.

 

-0-

 

It’s only after Montel was dropped off and the chance for another job popped up that Jim is aware enough to jump at it. He could tell that Hondo put it off as him being an adrenaline junkie, writing it off as adrenaline and enthusiasm from the last day and Jim didn’t correct him. What was he gonna say? He’d just witnessed his best friend in the world get run over by a train and didn’t want to think about it?

It’s only the idea of preparing for another operation that keeps the sound of the wheels on the track from overwhelming him, or that the iron scent of blood in the air from all their wounds reminds him that he shoved Brian under a moving train. The picture of his body shuddering and then not moving keeps flashing in front of his eyes, only the cool grip of his weapon and he prepares it for another job keeps him tethered to the present, without that anchor Jim isn’t sure what’ll happen to him.

 

-0-

 

After the job, when they’re sent home for a mandatory twenty-four hours of off time, that the poisonous idea that Brian was gone for good takes root. Street wouldn’t stumble upon Gamble in a bar, taunting him by flirting with the floozies or come over to exchanging jeering remarks about him being the cage bitch.

After the Navy all Jim had wanted to do was find a niche that he fit into again, S.W.A.T. had offered that dream up on a platter. Sure they still had to deal with dickweeds like Captain Fuller but it had balanced out more often than not by the Lieutenant having their backs. If only Brian hadn’t of insisted on pushing the line so often, hadn’t played the cowboy for shits and giggles.

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the state of California for Jim to drown himself in. Rage and anger and hate for Brian flood his system. Why couldn’t the asshole have seen things from Jim’s point of view? Why couldn’t Brian have just apologized for his fuck up and taken responsibility for shooting that goddamn woman? Why couldn’t that hostage just be fucking happy she was alive and not shot dead by those fucking criminals? If Bri had taken the demotions none of this bullshit would have happened, Jim would still have his fucking best friend. If Jim had stopped his partner from running headlong into the bank then they’d still be on SWAT, Brian would still be alive.

The questions and ‘what ifs’ rain down on him until Jim takes Jasper and runs, and runs and runs. The recriminations don’t stop but Jim’s sure that if he just goes a little further he can escape it all.

 

-0-

 

Three days later, during enforced downtime for the team, Jim’s halfway through a bottle of tequila and having returned from the miserable affair of McCabe’s funeral, his brain wonders when Brian’s funeral will be held. With no family and no friends around, he wonders if his body has even been claimed from the morgue or if the city’s just decided to incinerate his ex-partner and wipe their hands of a former cop turned criminal.

Jim takes another swig from the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before unsteadily setting it on the table. He’d picked the table out with Brian. Less picked out and more hauled away from some dumpster from some high class hotel; they’d loaded it into Brian’s truck and dragged it up the stairs to his apartment. They’d celebrated with pizza and beer and a Madden tournament. Jim’s gut twists, the tequila suddenly sour in his stomach and threatening to make reappearance, he barely makes it to the toilet in time for the curtain call.

 

-0-

 

It’s another two days before Jim can bear to bring up Brian’s body with the morgue. The attendant in charge, Doctor Winters, gives him a look like he’s crazy.

“We only had the six bodies from the other night, Brian Gamble was never found on scene, Officer,” he said. He sets the clipboard in Jim’s hands and walks back over to his current autopsy.

Jim stares in shock. Refusing to believe what he’s hearing, he flips through the pages but it’s true. There aren’t any forms with Brian’s information copied down, not even a ‘John Doe’ that he could be listed under. Jim’s stomach lurches.

“Where the fuck are you Brian?”

 

-0-

 

By the time Jim gets into Fuller’s office, he’s not the calmest he’s ever been, and despite having carried off three missions that went surprisingly well recently it seems like captain is still aiming for his removal from the force.

“You don’t have a clue what happened to a former SWAT member? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Fuller glares at Street and passes the blame so quickly, he’s more surprised he didn’t get whiplash than the by captain seeking to cover his own ass.

“What does it matter, that traitor was a criminal in case you’ve forgotten, Street, Gamble held you up at gunpoint and almost killed your team several times that night. He probably just crawled under the tracks and was torn up by an oncoming train.”

Jim loses his breakfast all across Fuller’s desk at the on point description. There had been in-depth paperwork on the incident, and it wouldn’t have surprised Jim at this point if the bastard got some sort of twisted glee in shoving Brian’s death in his face.

Fuller’s rage is apocalyptic at the desecration of his desk, Street wishes he was more upset about being booted from the division.

 

-0-

 

It’s another week before he can find any leads on what happened to Brian. The Captain was all too happy to shut him down any of the guys from the department still willing to talk to him and told him not to worry about dead criminals, a dead look in his eye and an appalled expression like he can’t believe that Jim would even care about Brian. Jim doesn’t let it stop him, and although he’d been reluctant to approach Hondo after getting removed from SWAT, again, there’s something fishy going on and Jim’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

Only when he goes to find the sergeant he’s informed by Deke that Hondo’s been transferred and that a new leader for their SWAT team would be arriving later this week.

 

-0-

 

The drive out to the sergeant’s apartment is a last resort, but Jim’s gut is telling him that if he lets this rest he’ll regret it for the rest of his life. There’s a nondescript moving truck in the street, and the movers are just pulling down the panel when Jim haphazardly parks is car and jumps out.

“Hondo,” he called out. His voice is scratchy and hollow and he has to clear his throat before he can get the volume for his voice to carry into the apartment. Jim doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t for some middle aged accountant to approach him at Hondo’s old apartment.

“Ah, Officer Street, about time you showed up.”

Jim feels like he’s been hit in the back of the head with a bag of bricks he’s so dumbfounded by the half smile the man offers him.

“You were expecting me?”

The guy shrugs, and stops in front of Street. He reaches out for a handshake and after a moment Street reluctantly returns the gesture. If anything his hesitance makes the guy’s smile grow.

“We haven’t been properly introduced, my name is Agent Phil Coulson, of SHIELD,” he says.

Jim’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Wh-what? SHIELD? Listen buddy, I’m hear about Brian, my old partner.”

Coulson just nods, like he expected the conversation to take this sort of vein. “Yes, I was wondering when you’d bring up your former partner, or rather, the lack of his body available for a possible funeral.” The way the man doesn’t even flinch at such an absurd topic gives Street pause but Jim feels a fist close tightly around his heart, like a steel band had wrapped around his torso and squeezed down so that he can’t breathe. His hands felt icy and sweaty at the memory of Gamble’s unmoving body, he doesn’t lose his lunch like in Fuller’s office but his stomach is on the edge of rebelling again.

Coulson reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing to get Street’s attention.

“Snap out of it, Street.” Jim responds to the steady command in the agent’s voice without thought, grimacing when he realizes it. Coulson offers a flash of a non-smile before returning to a bland expression.

“What the hell is SHIELD? And what’s it got to do with why Bri’s missing?”

“SHIELD is the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division,” Phil said. “That’s not the important part though Jim. I’m going to let you in on a high classified piece of information mostly because I don’t want to deal with a broken hearted and mopey agent for the rest of my days.”

“A broken hearted agent?” Where was this guy from and what the hell was he talking about?

“Let’s just say that the past several months have been a test, one might I add that you’ve passed rather well. Better than I expected, despite Agent Barton’s assurances that you would excel.”

“Agent Barton? I’ve never met with anyone named Barton, sir.”

“That statement is less true than you understand it to be. You’re rather more acquainted with this agent than you know but as SHIELD required him to work undercover, it’s understandable that you wouldn’t recognize it. Agent Clint Barton has been working for several years on uncovering a potential ties to a terrorist agency of interest to SHIELD. As you were surprisingly apt at keeping up with our agent he’s made the suggestion that you be offered a position within our agency and as Director Fury has mentioned, he’d liked you to work for him.”

“Shield? Agent Barton? What are you talking about? The director of some agency I’ve never heard of? What’s anything of this have to do with Hondo or Brian?”

Another voice came from the entrance of the apartment building. “Told you this was a quick one, Coulson.”

Jim looked over towards the apartment building but what he saw didn’t click. It wasn’t possible. Hondo was standing there but he was dressed all in black with a knee length leather duster flapping behind him like a goddamn cape.

“Officer Street, I’d like to extend the opportunity for you to help you country.”

“So you’re really gonna be so broken hearted from your transfer from SWAT that you’ve got to offer me a position on a new team, Hondo?”

Hondo-Fury smirked. “Not quite.” He stopped in front of Street and Jim searched for a hint of the man that had been his team leader.

“One of my best agents has grown rather attached to you, and has nothing but glowing reviews for your talents, said I should check you out as a probationary SHIELD agent. As Agent Coulson was explaining, you knew him as Brian Gamble but that isn’t his primary identity.”

Another agent exits the building and Street’s stomach wavers violently and his knees start to buckle. The agent was across the apartment stairs and hefting him up by the shoulders before he could hit the pavement, though Street’s legs are still unsure about supporting him fully just yet.

“Aw shit, Fury, by the time you two got around to telling Jimbo I’m still alive it might not be true any longer!”

“Bri-Brian? You’re … you’re not dead.”

Clint ducked his chin down for a moment before clearing his throat and looking back up at Jim warily.

“It’s Clint, actually but no, Jimmy, I’m not.”

Clint should have expected the fist to the face but he’d been a tad distracted by holding up his partner. Just as quickly as he’d sucker punched him, Jim’s lurching forward out his grip and closing the distance between them, one hand on Clint’s shoulder and the other grabbing a handful of hair, Jim’s tilting his head back and smashing their lips together in a rough, bloody kiss, right in front of both of Clint’s bosses, and all he can think about is it might not be a Disney Happily Ever After, but this man at his back is all he needs.

 

-0-  
The End  
-0-

 


End file.
